*I’m still on maternity leave, and, so, reposting some of my favorite posts from the last two years of Classroom to Capitol. I’ve tried to pick out a mix of those that attracted a lot of attention at the time and those that are just personally meaningful to me (and, I hope, to some of you!), and I’ve also updated them, in some cases, with some new questions and information. Thank you for your patience as I dedicate myself to full-time motherhood for a few more weeks!
When I was in graduate school at Washington University (the one in St. Louis), I had the amazing opportunity to take a class from Ernesto Cortes, lead organizer with the Industrial Areas Foundation in the Southwest. He came to teach two long weekend seminars on institution-based organizing that Wash U offered as a regular 3-credit course. It was so intimidating that some of the class is still a blur to me, but some snippets of what we talked about still stand out (along with a memory of my mortification when he chose me to model a 1:1 with him in front of the entire class–scary).
One of the things that really hit me as a social worker was his explanation of the ‘golden rule’ of organizing: Never do for someone else what he/she can do for him/herself. Not should do for herself, but can do for herself. Not ‘rarely’ or ‘seldom’, but ‘never’.
I like this rule because, when you first hear it, it sounds so totally common-sense. Of course we should never do things for other people that they can do for themselves, right? Um, except that we do it all the time. As social workers, and, indeed, as people, how often do we take shortcuts, making the phone call ourselves because we’re afraid our client will forget, or answering for a client in a meeting because we’re afraid he doesn’t understand, or staying late to finish a report for a colleague because we’re really good at that.
And, at first, it doesn’t seem like a bad thing. I mean, we’re social workers. We’re supposed to help people, right? And that means doing helpful things for people, right?
I struggled with this quite a bit in my community and advocacy practice. How is an organizer supposed to know what someone can do for herself? Do we let them try and fail? What if such failure has implications for the whole community, or the whole organization? Where do we draw the line between empowering people and abandoning them? Between paternalistic ‘overdoing’ for people and supportive modeling and guidance? How do we ensure that our interactions with people change as they change and grow? And how do we deal with the fact that sometimes not doing for other people is harder and slower than just getting it done, when our lives and our organizing are so busy?
It was when my oldest son was struggling with his carseat buckle that I made the connection: the same challenges that parents of toddlers face apply to this age-old organizing connundrum. He wants to learn how to unfasten his carseat because he knows that, once he can do it independently, he’ll get to move to the back of the van with his brother or sister. He hates sitting in the middle row by himself, so he’s really motivated to get this figured out (you might say that he has a good sense of his self-interest). As you can imagine, his initial attempts at this have been less than satisfactory. As I’m trying to get the other kids loaded up to get to wherever we’re headed (inevitably late), I find myself facing the same dilemma as when I wondered whether it was fair to ask an undocumented client to speak to the media or someone who spoke limited English to give the introduction…what can he do for himself? What must I do for him? How do we negotiate this in a way that builds his skills and his confidence and, most importantly to an emerging leader and a toddler, enhances his real power?
I don’t have all of the answers for this, in organizing or in parenting. But I know that, when I hit on the right approach as an organizer, people did extraordinary things that they (and, honestly I) were quite unsure they could do. And, as a mom, when my son got the chest strap on his carseat off all by himself and said, “Mom, I’m getting really close to sitting in the backseat!” I know that Ernie Cortes is right. It’s not easy to sit on our hands and do less, but, if we can stand it, we really are doing more.
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Thank you for giving me new insight. I have done some of those very things you mention above, and all the while, thought I was ‘helping’. Especially when it comes to my boys!
It is not easy to quelch that part of us that says it’s faster, easier, and better, if I just do it myself. And likely experience has taught us that in some cases it has been faster, easier and better when we did it ourselves. It isn’t in our nature to watch a person fail, client or family, because failure can hurt. As the ‘teacher’ in some aspects, their failure may feel like failure on our part as well.
Maybe a good place to start is simply by asking what role would they like us to take. If that role doesn’t mesh with our values or the intentions of the community, it will be important to no in a way that doesn’t alienate them. Easier said than done?
It IS hard to watch people struggle, and even fail, especially when we have come to care about them! But I am convinced it is no easier to push through alone, watching the faces of those whom we have disappointed by depriving them if the chance to lead, and to succeed. Thanks for sharing your reflections!
As an individual I struggle with patience and perfection and this can easily spill over into my work with communities if I am not careful. It is hard to watch people that I care about stubble and sometimes fall, but watching them rise to the top on their own terms is very rewarding. I think it is important to remember that as social workers we really should be striving to empower people so much that they no longer need us. Ideally we should be working ourselves out of a job. I think sometimes that the field of social services can become caught up in policy and systems that do not allow the communities we serve to do for themselves. It is important to remember in our advocating that we create systems that our clients can navigate.
Yes–I love that statement about creating the systems our clients can navigate! When we fulfill our roles, our clients won’t ‘fall’ as often, even when we’re not holding their hands!